


Bloom

by denimdisaster



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rated T for language, yangu is bg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 09:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15140336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/denimdisaster/pseuds/denimdisaster
Summary: The piano boy who came by on Tuesdays and Thursdays played his heart as though it was a song.





	Bloom

**Author's Note:**

> this got... far longer than i expected it to be.  
> also, they are in high school - characters are slightly different, mainly in that they are more reserved. in this au, hongseok had to come home from singapore (i don't know why exactly, use your imagination) for his last year, because it is convenient and makes the most sense i think, considering that i wanted to write a hs au.
> 
> in my drafts this is saved as 'waltz of the flowers' but actually thats a so-so title and i ditched it.  
> for maximum effect, i suggest listening to these songs while you read:
> 
> waltz of the flowers - pyotr tchaikovsky  
> waltz of the cornflowers and poppies - alexander glazunov  
> bloom - troye sivan
> 
> i hope you enjoy! there arent enough shinwon fics out there, and Definitely not enough hongwon, so...

Life went on after that fateful Thursday before his last year in high school.  
  
It wasn’t as if he thought it would end just because he had to move back to Korea. Moving was always a hassle but there wasn’t much tying him to Singapore anyways, and Hongseok said farewell to the friends he had found there with less sincere sadness than was probably polite. Like he told them over his last serving of char kway teow, life went on. This time it would just have to go on in Seoul instead.

 

And it did. He became friends with everyone and noone, being well-liked by all his classmates but not particularly close to any of them. His afternoons were spent in solitude. And though the overwhelming pressure of Singapore wasn’t looming over him anymore some habits were hard to break, and so he found himself spending more of his time studying than he most likely needed to, easily acing exams simply because he had nothing else to do. Going to the gym went from merely being a means of improving his stamina a bit to a hobby, the only real past-time he could properly get into because it felt _productive_ , gave him the same rush that he had been conditioned to receive from studying. His life was books and dumbbells and he told himself it was okay.

 

It could be worse. A boring life was better than a ruined one, and though he missed Singapore there were things about Korea he had missed when he was there, too. Like snow crabs, his favorite dramas, the _homeliness_ he couldn’t find in Singapore, pristine and sparkling and nerve wracking. Missed walking down streets he had known as a child. The smell of food markets and incense, flower festivals in spring. He could eat bulgogi again. Told himself that life was good. He didn’t do drugs, didn’t do parties, didn’t have an accidentally pregnant girlfriend. Didn’t have a girlfriend.

 

There were cherry blossoms in the air, and Hongseok had never felt so lonely.

 

 

❀.❀.❀

 

 

The cherry blossoms had long since bloomed over when he met him. He wished that wasn’t the case, that he could say their first meeting was framed by pink petals and shoujo sparkles, but truth was that the schoolyard was covered in dandelions and carefully tended to vegetables instead, not half as romantic but then again he hadn’t planned on that being the case, either. He had woken up that morning to a life that was the same as when he left it. Piano guy was a happy accident that turned it upside down with one song, to the mundane backdrop of tomatoes and dandelions, to a dusty schoolyard and quiet hallways.

 

His classmates had left for the day several hours ago, noone bothering to ask Hongseok if he was coming with anymore, knowing very well he would stay behind to study til his evening workout. He could have gone with them if he wanted to. But he should have said so before, back when they were still asking, shouldn’t have let his nerves get the best of him and grabbed the opportunity when it was still being presented to him. It was just that… He had been so used to the harsh schedule of the elite school in Singapore that hanging out with friends doing nothing left him feeling nervous, antsy, like he was wasting time and wasn’t supposed to.

 

But even studying made him restless when he had read and overanalyzed their current English novel twice already and there was nothing else for him to do. It was inevitable, really, that he would end up walking around the school trying to find something to occupy his time when all his friends had left. Hyunggu would have called it fate. Perhaps it was. It was only really chance that made him decide to check on the vegetables that day, after all, having briefed a book on gardening in his boredom and gotten inspired. Perhaps it was fate that he had found the book in the first place, maybe it played a hand in having the music classroom face the school garden, its windows open in the summer heat.

 

He noticed that there was someone inside before they started playing, clearly hearing the easily identifiable scratching of a pencil from where he was bent down below one of the windows. The sunflowers hadn’t been given all the space they needed, but other than that it seemed whoever was caring for them had been doing a pretty good job. He picked at the few weeds that had managed to grow since someone last was here, a part of him wishing that the garden would have been more run down so that he could have taken care of something, made a difference. Found a hobby where he was useful. It wasn’t a lot of fun, either, looking over a garden with nothing for him to fix.

 

And so he was just about to return when whoever was inside the classroom just above his head started playing the grand piano. It was the grand piano, he could tell from the sound of the keys (the electric one had nowhere near as clean a sound as this one, and the regular acoustic piano was way overdue for a tuning), having spent his fair share of time in the music classroom. Which meant that the person had gotten special permission to use it. He could understand why. The sound was magical, really, so full of emotion he could _hear it_ , the passion and longing tinging every note. Like wishing for spring when it had already come and passed, a longing for something undefined and unreachable, for the past and for the future.

 

Hongseok forgot to breathe.

 

He found himself sitting frozen in his uncomfortable crouch for a long time, even after the music stopped, unable to move when his mind was still replaying the sound, desperate to repeat the moment. Someone at this school knew how to play that well. Someone else knew and understood his feelings, both for music and about life, someone else had put chords to the foggy emotions Hongseok couldn’t properly comprehend.

 

The cherry blossoms weren’t falling anymore, but when looking at the dandelions by his feet, he found that he didn’t really miss them.

 

 

❀.❀.❀

 

 

Irises were in full bloom by the time he finally got to see the piano man.

 

He had come by the classroom more or less every day since he first heard that enchanting music, only to find it empty or filled with other people, could tell by the kind of music they played that they weren’t the same person. The one playing the sad songs, those that spoke to him, they only came by on Tuesdays and Thursdays, played a song or two before leaving, Hongseok’s heart pounding so hard he was certain the piano player could hear it from his place below the window, always open.

 

And even during the days he knew that the person wouldn’t be there he still found himself walking the familiar path to the school garden, just in case. The flowers had grown on him, pun intended. It was difficult not to get interested when he had spent so many afternoons there, waiting for music and a purpose. He had gotten the wonderful idea once to bring a flora from the school library, wanting to at least be able to name his company, and ever since he had started to notice changes in them, carefully examining the various plants with such attentiveness that the school caretaker eventually noticed and lended him his expertise and tools. Gave a promise that Hongseok would be allowed to care for some plants of his own. It was a rather impressive little garden, for a public school, filled with chrysanthemums and lilies and mugunghwa and irises, blooming in various different colours, in various different seasons.

 

His favorites were the camellias, pink and beautiful, but only the caretaker was allowed to care for those and Hongseok’s respect for him grew tenfold once he came to realize just how notoriously picky they were. He had seen the man spend hours ensuring that their conditions were perfect time and time again and couldn’t understand it, didn’t see why he bothered so much when peonies were a quarter of the trouble, but then a book showed him one and Hongseok _understood_. They were perfectly even, petals a stunning gradient of pink. All the trouble would be worth it just to see a single flower open.

 

Up until that one day in late June, he had thought them to be the prettiest thing in the garden. That one day he had been caring for the asters below the music window as usual, contently listening to a lonely wish for company, heart aching as he stared at the weeds in his hands. The music stopped as it always did. He expected the musician to leave. It was routine by this point, but the person inside the classroom was apparently not finished yet, writing a few words with the telltale scritch-scratch of a pen and pacing the room front to back, seemingly distraught about something. Hongseok felt something like concern squeeze his heart. And then he felt something dripping down his neck, soaking the back of his shirt.

 

He yelped in surprise and lifted his head to come face to face with an angel.

 

If he had thought camellias were pretty, they were nothing compared to the piano guy, who blinked at him for a second before blushing and apologizing, saying _I didn’t see you there_ in a smooth voice that reminded him of music. There was an empty glass in his hand. Hongseok didn’t even get to tell him it was okay before the guy ducked his head and left the room, cheeks red and all he could think was that that was _adorable_. The guy was as beautiful as his music and it left him dumbfounded on the ground until most of the water had dried in the afternoon sun, left him as breathless as that first day when he had heard the now familiar piano chords.

 

For the first time in a long time, Hongseok felt as though his heart was in full bloom.

 

 

❀.❀.❀

 

 

He had less than two weeks to chase after the boy until the irises bloomed over at the end of term, and he took his mission very seriously.

 

The next Tuesday he dared to lift his head up and move to another plant before the boy had left the classroom. It earned him a stutter in the music when he was noticed, and a pretty, _pretty_ flush on his cheeks, but it didn’t move things forward in the slightest, didn’t even give him a name. He had spent a laughable amount of time pondering the guy’s name, in fact, not being able to think of anything that sounded pretty enough, something that sounded like music. (The hours he had wasted on this train of thought turned out to be _literally_ laughable, as Yanan had proven to him after their second hour over Skype with Hongseok looking dazed and distracted)

 

He read up on music theory so that they would have something to talk about, did he and piano boy ever get to have a proper conversation. Studied music in a way he never had. His experience with it had always been feelings, emotions, not rigid theory and ancient masters, never any sheets written by others. It was all new. Never had it before occurred to him just how much he didn't know, about Tchaikovsky, Chopin, Sibelius. He only really managed to understand diatonic function before losing interest but perhaps he could ask the piano guy to teach him about circle progression and predominant chords and things he didn’t care about. Just to listen to him. Hear more of that soft, melodic voice.

 

The opportunity to do so presented itself on a Wednesday. He had grown used to their Tuesday/ Thursday routine, now with added blushing and awkward waves, so when he found the guy in his garden on the Wednesday before the break, Hongseok didn’t know what to think. Okay, sure, it wasn’t his garden, and it wasn’t as if other students didn’t occasionally walk by or something, but this was _piano boy_. Outside the music classroom. Not inside it, but outside, in Hongseok’s space, where he must surely know that Hongseok would be because he was there _every single day_. Not that he would know, since he only came by on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but still. Anyone with half a mind (by his standards) would be able to guess that plants need watering every day. Maybe not by the same person, but who else was watering the flowers these days? No one. It was all Hongseok. The caretaker did most of the other stuff, yes, but it was him who watered all of the plants, even the camellias, him who came by every day. Really, the piano guy should _know_.

 

He acted as if he didn’t, though, eyes wide when Hongseok walked by, giving the angel a careful nod and a smile as he walked towards the flowers. Out of the corner of his eye he swore he could see him blushing. Suddenly the bluebells weren’t as interesting anymore. Trust piano guy to show up out of nowhere and dampen his enthusiasm for the flowers, simply by outshining them twenty to one. It was proving very difficult to care for them when there was someone so much more beautiful sitting next to them, next to his flowers. And really, he _must_ have known that they were more or less Hongseok’s. He saw him there all the time! He hadn’t really been aware of his existence until that accident with the water last week but hey, ever since then they had seen each other _thrice_ and all of those times had been in the garden, the only place Hongseok could possibly be.

 

It pissed him off a bit, how distracting the guy was by just sitting there. All he wanted to do was tend to his flowers in peace. Piano boy belonged in the music classroom, Hongseok belonged in the garden. And at the gym, and in the library. Those were _his_ places. He _belonged_ there. He was by no means a stick-in-the-mud or a restricted person, but he would have wanted a warning at least, just like he loved going out but would rather get an invite before, preferred to plan his days and know what would come before and after an event. It made things more enjoyable. Being caught off-guard like this meant that his hair didn’t look as good as it could have, all floppy and in his face, and he was sure there were dirt stains on his pants from crouching angrily amongst the plants he was taking care of. Stupid music boy.

 

“Hey, why do you like this place so much?”

 

Clever, wonderful music boy. God bless his beautiful voice that he managed to start a conversation with. Which he should probably continue, even though Hongseok didn’t really have a good answer to his question, not one that was tailored to strangers.

 

“I… Don’t know,” he admitted.

 

“Because it’s calming?”

 

He glanced over at the boy at the bench, whose head was cocked slightly to one side, fingers drumming the wood he was sitting on. Fuck, he really was gorgeous. It made his throat dry and head spin and it was difficult just to look him in his beautiful eyes, let alone answer any of his questions.

 

“Not really,” he said and swallowed, looking down at his watering can which had been drowning the poor lilies, pulled it towards the sunflowers instead. “It gives me a sense of purpose, I guess. Like I’m helping and changing something instead of just hanging around doing nothing.” There were more things to say, the words were bubbling in his throat and he had to bite his tongue to keep them from bursting out, words about pressure, self-doubt, isolation and anxiety, words that would scare the boy away, unsuitable for a first conversation. Second, if you considered that one sentence last week a conversation.

 

The guy hummed thoughtfully and made Hongseok think he was about to come up with some smart reply to his heartfelt words, start talking about educational pressure or something, but then all he said was:

 

“That’s valid. My name’s Shinwon, by the way.”

 

And really, it couldn’t be helped that he started laughing in surprise, the comment catching him so off guard that it became unintentionally hilarious. His name was Shinwon, then. Trust and hope. Believe and sincere. Yanan could suck it because he had been right, his name _was_ as beautiful as he was and prettier than anything he could have thought of on his own.

 

“Hongseok,” he said in return once he had calmed down. “Are you taking summer classes?”

 

“Mm, no, wasn’t planning on it. I’ll be here for the piano though. Why?”

 

“I like your music,” he said, turning his face away on embarrassed impulse. “Why do _you_ like playing so much?”

 

The guy - _Shinwon_ \- grew quiet at that, for so long that Hongseok eventually turned his head back towards him to check up on whatever he was doing, worried that he had left. But no, he was just sitting there, eyebrows knit and pretty lips pursed in a pout. Lost in thought. And Hongseok let him be, let him take his time whilst he tended to all of the plants. It was a rather comfortable silence, however unlikely it would have seemed in theory, with him doing his gardening duties and Shinwon questioning his life choices. Peaceful. The silence felt like trust, in a way, trust that each of them would listen and pay attention regardless of how long the quiet lasted, that they wouldn’t leave just because the other wasn’t talking at the moment.

 

“It’s just fun, I think.”

 

And so the silence was broken.

 

“That’s it? It’s fun?” _You do things just for **fun**? And you don’t feel bad about it?_ was on the tip of his tongue but he swallowed the words, didn’t want to guilt him for doing something for his own enjoyment just because _he_ had to struggle with that. His eyes held nothing but sincerity when he looked at them, searching for answers to the questions he didn’t ask. There were none to be found. Piano boy was an enigma regardless of whether or not Hongseok knew his name.

 

“Yeah,” Shinwon said. “It’s just fun.”

 

But perhaps he liked puzzles. Puzzles were made to be solved, after all, and even the trickiest flowers could be made to bloom. You simply had to know what to do.  
It was late June, and a month and a half later, the prettiest flower of them all would grace the garden with its presence.

 

 

❀.❀.❀

 

 

Their actual friendship started with a gut punch in the season of zinnias.

 

Summer school had been treating him nicely, leaving Hongseok with even more spare time than usual. He couldn’t very well ask for extra classes in subjects he already exceled at, couldn’t ask that of tired teachers who longed to go home, so his days were terrifyingly empty. There was only so much to do in a garden before you had to stop, only so much to lift at the gym before you started feeling woozy, only so many books to read before your eyes got tired. Change is the spice of life, and all that, and that one summer made it clear to Hongseok that he needed to find more hobbies. So perhaps it was only natural that he would find his way to the music classroom.

 

 _It’s just fun_ , Shinwon had said, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Told himself that he had a valid reason to search out the boy now, not just _he’s beautiful_ and _I like his music_ \- no, he had an undeniable purpose, wanting to find out how to commit to something just for fun. It sounded good. Problem was that everything about Hongseok sounded good on paper, in theory, but became muddled and confusing and embarrassing in reality. In his head, talking about finding a purpose sounded great, as though he was a protagonist in some literary novel, but you couldn’t talk about those things out loud, let alone to someone you had only spoken to a few times. It wasn’t Shinwon’s burden to carry.

 

And Hongseok had mastered the art of holding normal conversations years ago. He knew how to talk about video games and sports and girls and everything else that people usually enjoyed, spent hours reading up on everything just to have something to talk about. It wasn’t even as uninteresting as he would have thought. There was a surprising amount of depth to a lot of video games, a plethora of confusing rules in sports and just as many confusing rules when it came to girls. Learning things always managed to make him feel _worth something_. Even if what he was learning was just the lore of Bloodborne or what counted as a foul in soccer.

 

Neither of those were acceptable interaction starters, though - he couldn’t walk into the music classroom with an excuse as half-assed as “what’s your favorite movie”, much like he couldn’t just up and ask Shinwon about his beliefs regarding the nature of self worth. Everything he knew came later, once you were already talking. He had only ever learned to smoothly _continue_ an interaction. Never how to start one. Never before had he felt the desire to do so this strongly, anyways, all his friends had been made through circumstance or their initiative.

 

So he was left standing there, pondering his options, until the door swung open and hit him right in the face.

 

“Ah, sorry, didn’t see y- Hongseok?”

 

“Y-yeah,” he said, a little tilted about the fact that Shinwon had technically just slammed the door on him. At least he hadn’t fallen over. Thank god for all those hours he spent gymming. Praise the god of fitness. In fact, he should head over right now to appease them, do some working out in their honour. He should, especially since all of this was so awkward, it was just that… Shinwon was _mesmerizing_. Like a god himself. Godsent at the very least.

 

“Hmm,” the boy in question said, “I see.”

 

 _What the fuck does that mean_ , Hongseok thought, but he didn’t get the chance to ask him as Shinwon interrupted himself, jiggling the keys in his hands.

 

“Well like, I’m on my way out and I don’t know if you’re allowed to be in there without me.”

 

It made sense, really, especially since normal school had ended over a week ago. Of course he wasn’t allowed in the music classroom after hours unless he was accompanied. Without meaning to he sighed, upset about having to go back to walking around school or town or the forest alone until he gave up and just went to the gym or hit the books again.

 

“You’re welcome to join me if you wanna, though,” Shinwon said, head cocked and eyebrows slightly raised in what looked to be surprise at how put out Hongseok must be looking. _Shit_. He carefully eased his features into a more neutral expression to make him more comfortable, but the offer hit him after a fraction of a second and really, there was no way he could remain stone faced after being asked out like that, even if just as friends.

 

“Wait, what?” He asked and swallowed, desperately racking his brain for more words before the offer was retracted. “Where?”

 

“To McDonalds!” Shinwon happily exclaimed and that was not what he had expected him to be so happy about, not at all. It was kind of cute though. “You coming?”

 

It wasn’t really worth pretending to think it over, not when it had been so obvious that he was sad about not being let into the music classroom. But he did it anyways, for half a moment, before his face split into a grin and he told him _hell yeah_.

 

Shinwon punched the air in his excitement, letting out a far-too-loud _whoo!_ before he punched Hongseok in the stomach and knocked his breath away with how adorable he looked. It was supposed to be a joke or a playful gesture, clearly, since he was laughing, and he really didn’t mind, but Shinwon’s laughter died as soon as his fist made contact with Hongseok’s skin, eyes wide and blinking owlishly.

 

“What the hell, Hongseok, you are so fucking _ripped_.”

 

“I, uh, work out.”

 

“Yeah, _no shit_.” The hand didn’t leave his stomach but instead opened and spread, warm and nice and slender and wow he had such nice fingers, left piano hand carelessly exploring his stomach and making it difficult to stand on weak knees.

 

His hand stayed for just a bit longer than could pass for platonic or heterosexual, but Shinwon didn’t even have the common sense to look ashamed. Perhaps he wasn’t ashamed of it. Perhaps he was above that, being an angel and all, and Hongseok should feel honoured he was being touched by him in the first place.

 

Last week, Yanan had asked him why he cared for this guy in the first place. _How are you this whipped for someone you barely know_ , he had said and rolled his eyes. As if he was any better. That Junhui kid had him wrapped around a pinky but _Hongseok_ wasn’t questioning that, was he? Wasn’t asking difficult questions he couldn’t answer. Because he didn’t know why he was so hooked on Shinwon, why he was so drawn to _him_ out of all the pretty people he had met throughout his life. But maybe he didn’t need to answer it just yet. He had a crush on the weird piano boy with a pretty smile and that was that, an unquestionable truth.

 

And with a fluttering heart, weak from the warmth of Shinwon’s hand, he followed him to McDonalds amidst zinnias and the smell of honeysuckle.

 

 

❀.❀.❀

 

 

Shinwon played him _Waltz of the Cornflowers and Poppies_ the first time Hongseok was officially let inside the classroom with him. It was fitting, after all, since they were blooming blue and red just outside the window, but he hadn’t even known that a song about them existed. Shinwon kept apologizing that there weren’t any strings to accompany him, kept saying how he wasn’t doing Glazunov any justice, but all Hongseok heard was shining, beautiful music, and all Hongseok saw was strong hands and a soft smile. It made his heart flutter just a little bit more, made his stomach feel as if it was filled with soda, his whole body feel slightly numb, as if he was drunk and everything felt giggly and blurry and _good_.

 

“Teach me about music,” he said to him once the song concluded.

 

And he did with unmatched passion, ranting about monotonality and harmonies and musical theorists, eyes gleaming with interest, so _alive_ and captivating that you couldn’t have paid Hongseok to actually listen. Half an hour later he still didn’t understand anything about whatever Shinwon had been explaining, but neither of them seemed to really care, happy to talk and happy to listen. There was a permanent smile on his face, dopey and lovesick and he knew it but couldn’t drop it. Not when Shinwon was _like that_. Beautiful and shining and ethereal in a way that made it impossible to look away from him.

 

But he was kind of dorky too. Made weird faces and poses and said things out of nowhere that only made half sense. Showed up in random locations - a tree, a broom closet, the school basement _where he wasn’t even allowed to be_ \- and yet he never seemed out of place, like Korean Jack Black or something. He did so many things that couldn’t have worked for anyone else but that just _worked_ because it was _him_. The dorkiness made it easy to become friends with him, since they were a bit alike on that front, dramatic and strange, but it also made it far too easy for Hongseok to actually fall in love.

 

A crush was one thing. A crush would go away after a few weeks unless tended to, but love… Love was an unwavering crush that was far less easy to uproot. It would have to be chopped off, meticulously and painfully, the open wound hurting for ages before the roots finally withered and died. Hongseok had only been in love once, in Singapore, but it was terrifying and not really what he had wanted to come from his infatuation with the guy who played the piano so well it felt like his heart was going to burst every time he heard him. Maybe he should have expected it. He was a softie at heart, after all. Maybe he should have known that this would happen.

 

If Hyunggu had been there he would have told him the flowers were a sign. Friendship and love were flowering and he simply had to pick one, right? But he didn’t want to choose. He loved cornflowers for their vivid colour and poppies for their fragile shape, so where was the harm in wanting to keep both? They looked good together, side by side in the school garden. The cornflowers were planted. The poppies were wild. And yet he loved the poppies all the same, took care of them the way he nurtured his friendship with Shinwon until the cornflowers weren’t as interesting anymore, until he was pulled towards the red, fragile petals of love instead.

 

It scared him, how naturally he had fallen in love. As if it was the only logical step for him to take. He tried to ignore it at first, pretend that the feelings weren’t there - they were annuals, after all, and a weed on top of that. Nothing good would come out of allowing them to stay and ruin the soil for everything else. But he couldn’t bring himself to dig them up. They were beautiful and fit right in, filled the empty spot between the blue and yellow, between family and friends. It felt like a shame to kill them.

 

So he tried to just ignore that they were there. He didn’t mean to _drain them_ or anything, just leave it up to chance whether or not they got enough water, enough space, enough nutrients. If they didn’t survive they simply weren’t meant to be. And as such he pulled back, avoided Shinwon in hopes of getting over his ridiculous infatuation with him, trying to leave their meetings up to chance instead of going out of his way to see him. If fate wanted them to see each other, they would, and if it didn’t then that was that. Told himself that it was the best thing to do.

 

 

He hadn’t counted on the cornflowers suffering instead of the poppies.

 

 

❀.❀.❀

 

 

As though there was a thorn edged deep into his heart, Hongseok ached to talk to him again. Almost three weeks apart was far too long when he had grown accustomed to seeing him every day. Avoiding him - because he was avoiding him, regardless of what lies he tried to sell himself - was difficult, too, because he had to take care of the garden and Shinwon knew it. It was a little bit like an adventure, sneaking about and coming around at odd hours to fulfill his duties without being caught, and were it not for the fact that seeing Shinwon looking so down completely broke his heart, Hongseok might even have enjoyed it a little bit.

 

Close to three weeks had passed and he couldn’t take it anymore. So be it that the weeds had nestled themselves into his heart and so be it that he couldn’t starve them to death. August was nearly here and he wasn’t going to waste his summer feeling awful because he had to avoid someone who wasn’t quite his friend anymore, someone who he was terribly and irreversibly in love with.

 

He reentered Shinwon’s life with a sigh of anxiety, tapping him on the shoulder and making him jump off the bench he was sitting on, jumpy as always, more lovable than ever. They laughed about it, his own laughter spilling onto Shinwon until they were giggling together on the ground with tears in their eyes. A mess, that was what they were. Himself more so than his junior. But they were okay, for now. Shinwon didn’t ask why he had been avoided. Hongseok didn’t volunteer the information. Status quo again.

 

In their garden, the cornflowers shed their petals.

 

 

❀.❀.❀

 

 

It was August when he finally confessed.

 

Like a flood after a drought, Hongseok poured his attention onto Shinwon to make up for his absence.  
Things didn’t work that way, he knew that, but if being clingy was any consolidation to him whatsoever that he wouldn’t run away again, Hongseok gave it to him tenfold. Spent their mornings apart, their afternoons together. Sometimes Hongseok brought enough lunch for both of them and they ate in each other’s company. The afternoons begun to drag on for longer and longer, the summer sun allowing them to pretend as if it wasn’t that late, they didn’t have to leave just yet. He rescheduled his gym sessions to late evenings, early mornings, gap hours. So that he could see him. Pathetic, maybe, but he was a starving man after almost three weeks of being by himself.

 

They fell into a routine again. This time with an added desperation, a clinginess from both of their sides and more forced attempts to keep the conversation going, just because. Silences felt too heavy, too charged, too much like an excuse to run away. Yet at the same time there was a kind of wariness where they avoided any heavy topics, kept all conversation light and breezy. Unemotional. Stopped casually touching each other. It was as though both of them wanted to go back to what had been before but neither knew how to, simple interactions a long forgotten art, friendship a wilted cornflower whose time had passed.

 

They weren’t strangers to each other, and so they couldn’t start over. They were past square one but had taken an alternative path, one which didn’t lead to friendship because that route had been destroyed, forcing them into uncharted territory. It was much more unsafe this way. One wrong move would lose them the game. Hongseok had already made a mistake by pulling away from Shinwon on their cornflower framed path and he couldn’t afford to make another one, couldn’t afford to lose him altogether. He was afraid that he’d lose a piece of himself if that happened, something integral that had been knit too closely to Shinwon for it to come loose whole, where he to try and cut it off.  
They had become inseparable but divided, like a tree split by a storm still held together by its roots. And he knew that it was his fault, just as he knew that it was him who would have to fix it.

 

“It’s okay,” Shinwon tried to say when he finally apologized, but he wasn’t allowed to accept the apology before he got to tell him _why_ he had been avoided, couldn’t let him believe that he had done anything wrong.

 

He shook his head.  
“It’s not okay,” he began, “And I didn’t want to do it. I’m sorry. It’s just… I had to sort some things out. About myself. And about you, which was why I couldn’t see you, even though I really wanted to, trust me.”

 

“What kind of things? Hongseok, please. Look at me.”

 

His beautiful piano fingers gently tilted his chin up, forcing him to look at his angelic face straight on. This was dangerous. A misstep could lead to a game over. But Shinwon’s eyes were compelling, pulling him in as though he was bewitched and had no other choice but to do whatever he said, as though Hongseok’s greatest desire was to make him happy by any means necessary. He had been too careful for too long, too boxed in, too confined. He could do it. Shinwon deserved the truth, and Hongseok deserved the possibility of having _fun_ , of enjoying himself, of getting something that he wanted. That he had wanted for years without knowing it.

 

“I love you,” he whispered.

 

For a second he didn’t think he had been heard. But then the frown melted away into shock, long eyelashes fanning his cheeks as he blinked once, twice, twelve times. He could count, with their faces being as close as they were. Shinwon wasn’t pulling back. His breathing was shaky and Hongseok could feel him breathe, smell whatever honey scented body product he used that made his skin wonderfully soft, even in the middle of summer. His eyes, dark and beautiful, were filled with something he couldn’t quite place and they traced his face as though Shinwon was searching for something.

 

And he must have found it, because he closed his eyes and leaned forward to softly kiss him.

 

It was a gentle kiss, filled with love and promise, the afternoon sun casting a warm glow on the two of them and illuminating the path ahead. Poppies, roses, tulips, carnations. At that moment every flower of adoration was blooming in his heart, because he and Shinwon had grown an _us_. There was something in the air that confirmed it. It didn’t need to be said with words, that they loved each other, because the moment proved it, illuminated the truth. _Fate is knocking on my door_ , Beethoven had said. And it was a bit the same for him, with destiny tapping him on the shoulder and appearing out of nowhere, turning his life upside down over the course of a song. But Hongseok’s fate was kinder and bore the face of an angel. Hongseok’s fate was a man who loved him back, one who kissed him under magnolia trees and looked at him as if he had hung the moon.

 

“You owe me an ‘I love you too’,” he said with a smile, even though it wasn’t really necessary, even though the kiss had made it clear to both of them that his feelings were mutual.  


Shinwon’s fingers came to cup his cheek instead, right hand reaching out to play with the hair at his nape. He leaned into the touch and the smile on Shinwon’s face softened further, eyes so full of adoration they threatened to melt Hongseok on the spot if he looked at them for too long. His cheeks were probably so warm he could feel them.

 

“I love you,” Shinwon said. “Yang Hongseok, I love you too.” And then he laughed a little, restricted but genuine, a sound far more beautiful than any song he had ever played.  
“I guess you owe me a kiss now.”

 

It made Hongseok laugh, too, pulling their foreheads together until they had calmed down. There weren’t any shoujo sparkles nor any cherry blossoms falling around them, no red roses blooming in the garden. He wasn’t sure he wanted it to anymore. The garden had become his garden, theirs, a sharing of friendship, trust, love. It didn’t hold all the flowers of conventional romance. But it had them.

 

 

Under the August sun, they kissed, and the camellias finally opened their flowers.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> camellias arent even my favorite flowers
> 
>  
> 
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> 
> talk to me on twitter @revelesbisk


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